It’s called the Tishman Building, for the people who built it. It’s also called the most expensive piece of real estate in Manhattan, because somebody paid over a billion dollars for it. That’s an astounding amount of money. For some reason, however, I can understand wanting to own this particular patch of concrete and steel right across the street from Rockefeller Center. 666 Fifth Avenue is a swanky place.
Yes, 666 Fifth Avenue. That address could freak a person out if they wanted to be. You could also read something into the fact that a company like Citi occupies the building (vis a vis the evilness of the company.) But whether it was the cool modern entrance or the presence of the hip “Top of the Sixes” restaurant in h penthouse, I always dug this building. Standing on the avenue in the dawn of my adulthood, it inspired me.
It inspired me in the way that IBM Computers and American Airlines planes inspired me. Gray suits and whit shirts with button down collars and nicely patterned ties do the same thing. And Chevrolet Monte Carlos. These were the things my dad used or had from my earliest memories. In the waning days of the era of Mad Men, these were the trappings of adulthood. On the verge of becoming an adult myself, I looked at this building and knew what that used to mean.